


Woven in Your Web of Darkness

by athirstygoil



Series: Woven In Your Web of Darkness [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Blindfolds, Bondage, Coercion, Dubious Consent, Ecto-Tentacles (Undertale), Gags, Hypnosis, Hypnotism, Implied Cannibalism, M/M, Manipulation, Minor pain play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, post-Underverse canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 07:44:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athirstygoil/pseuds/athirstygoil
Summary: Dream mistakenly finds himself in Nightmare’s abode. He may not understand why, but his brother is more than happy to educate him.





	Woven in Your Web of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally for Kinktober 2017, appropriately using the prompts Master/Slave and tentacles. Because who else does one think of to fit both those categories besides our drippy boi Nightmare? ;) 
> 
> Hypnosis added because there is a disparaging lack of this particular kink in the Undertail world and I plan to remedy that however slow I am to post ^^;
> 
> Anyway! This comes with [another version!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888741) Because I thought of it partway through my revision time and just--thought it needed to be shared as well. If you plan on reading both, feel free to! It might seem repetitive, but I do hope you enjoy them as standalone pieces of the same instance. c:

Why was it so dark? Gold eyelights searched his surroundings as Dream blinked.

Everywhere he’d look blurred, like a static fuzzed their already indistinguishable edges. Like the darkness was moving. Scrutinizing the area with squinted sockets, Dream slowly tilted his skull.

This didn’t _look_ like the Doodle Sphere. Unless Ink decided to turn off the lights in his own personal multiverse.

Which, if Dream knew Ink, sounded quite unlike him.

The darkness swirled slightly when Dream held his gaze for too long. It seemed to draw him further forward, closer, like it was inviting him in. Confused, Dream averted his eyelights, and pulled his attention elsewhere, anywhere.

“What is this?” he asked himself. “Where am I?”

This wasn’t the Void, was it? No, Dream decided, shaking his head, the air had a certain abyssal quality to it that the ominous, truly unfathomable Void did not exhibit.

This place was somewhere else entirely.

Dream felt the wavering shapes fall away from him as he experimentally grasped at the nothingness. Nothing seemed to want to adhere to him.

Disappointed, he kicked at the air. A slight force propelled Dream forward, and he allowed himself a small smile at this development. At least now he could explore.

Moving his arms like he were swimming, Dream floated onward, hoping to find a light other than his own. But still empty air greeted him. Still, darkness surrounded him, though it seemed to shrink back ever so slightly when he attempted to reach forward. Frowning, Dream tried again.

Further and further in he went, but he discovered nothing different.

Only the black, inky chasm that sucked him deeper into its depths.

Furrowing a brow ridge, Dream squinted worriedly at his cold, wispy surroundings. Was there _really,_ no way out? Sure he could move around, but what use was it if he wasn’t _getting_ anywhere? Crestfallen, he continued to move forward. Despite no other signs of change, Dream pressed on.

He was starting to feel a damper in his efforts when he recognized the atmosphere.

This bleakness in the air--this _negativity_. His eyelights shrank with realization.

Nightmare.

This was _Nightmare’s_ doing. Nightmare’s domain-- Oh, what was he doing _here_ of all places? How did he even _get_ here?

Dream’s light dimmed ever so slightly.

This wasn’t good. He needed to find a way out before Nightmare noticed.

Searching the black, Dream reached for a universe he knew he could teleport to, one brimming with positivity, but he couldn’t cling to it long enough. What the…

Dream never had difficulty stepping into other universes before. Not when it was certain he could step foot in them. Unless...something was preventing him from leaving.

Soul beating loudly in his skull, Dream’s eyelights shrank to pinpricks.

Wherever negativity ruled, Dream was at his weakest.

Was he trapped here?

Did...did _Nightmare_ do this?

But why?

And what was he going to do if Nightmare discovered him?

_When_ he discovered him--

Upon this revelation, a deep voice arose, as slow taunts surrounded him.

“_Well,_ well, _well._ What have we here?” Dream stiffened.

_Nightmare--_

The voice sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once, in different directions and inflections. It almost made Dream a little dizzy to listen to them all.

“A little Dream trapped in a Nightmare? What did you do?” the voice (voices?) mockingly asked. Dream, still recovering from the sensory input, gave no reply. Nightmare laughed aloud. “Guess you can say I make for a good _Dream-catcher eh?_” The cackle echoed and rang through his acoustic meatus, and it felt like the cacophony was repeating twice over in his skull.

Dream gritted his teeth as he waited for the dissonance to subside.

Nightmare wasn’t one to engage him during their past encounters. Usually he’d try and get rid of him by any means necessary. They usually were on opposing sides, after all. But now that it was just the two of them...

Managing to seize himself some reprieve, Dream snapped himself out of it best he could and faced the darkness, brow ridges low and determined.

If Nightmare brought him here, he could let him out.

Dream wasn’t looking to fight, but if he knew Nightmare, he wouldn’t release him without showing some sort of resolve against him. He needed to protect himself while he had the chance--

A momentary streak of gold magic bathed the darkness in light as he summoned his bow. Notching a golden arrow, Dream aimed at the source of the laughter.

“Let me leave Nightmare!” he commanded. “We don’t have to do this!” Nightmare in turn, cackled with amusement.

“Oh ho ho, _do what?_” he jeered, “Our _usual shtick?_ How you prove to me time and again that your little friends can bail you out of anything?”

Large pointed teeth chomped down suddenly near Dream in a wide, taunting smile.

“Now that they aren’t here, who’s gonna save you but yourself?” Eyeing the huge Cheshire grin, Dream backed away warily.

“We don’t even have to fight,” he adjured, lowering his bow. “Just show me the way out and we can forget this ever happened.”

“How could I, Dream?” Nightmare queried, “when you’ve brought _yourself_ here?” Gold eyelights dimmed with confusion.

“W-what do you mean?”

Snaking behind him, a gooey tentacle managed to brush against his cheek, making Dream recoil and shoot.

The goop splattered on his face, tingling where it landed. Cringing at the feel, Dream brought a hand to wipe them from his face. All it did was smear it over the bone.

“What was that about not fighting?” Nightmare asked sarcastically. His voice sounded like he had moved further away, taunting him. Nightmare wasn’t one to play games, and Dream found this behavior suspicious as he huffed and notched his bow again.

“Shame you don’t open your mind to the possibility, Dream,” Nightmare continued. He was circling him now. Dream could hear it in the inflection of his voice, the way the air seemed to move. “We could rule together you know. Renounce this timeline and become Kings, no _Gods even_, to all the petty peons of the multiverse.”

“No!” Dream refused, taking this opportunity to pinpoint where exactly Nightmare would be. His eyelights shining brilliantly as he scanned the darkness around him. “I won’t allow it! We were brought into being for a good reason,” he argued, arrow still aimed at the swirling black. “We were both to maintain the delicate duality of feelings across the multiverse. And if we don’t do it, there won’t be any worlds left to rule!”

A deep, amused chuckle resounded around Dream.

“You think we’d be without playthings?” Nightmare asked bemusedly. “Those who survive will become subject to a new kind of Life,” he interjected, “and the entire multiverse will be at our mercy--” Dream listened carefully, to follow his voice. Joining forces? Wasn’t that some overused villain tactic? Nightmare may be running out of ideas if he had to stoop so far to use something like that. “--but I digress.” Nightmare stopped walking. “What are you to understand unless you see it for yourself?”

“I won’t let you,” Dream countered.

He heard the distinct sound of a slow, cocky grin.

“Why don’t you do your cute hero routine and stop me?” Nightmare challenged.

Spinning waves of shadows surrounded Dream, beckoning him closer, drawing him unconsciously near, and Nightmare’s grin grew maliciously large.

“We have all the time in the multiverse to discuss it,” Nightmare sang, stepping so he was visible to Dream. “That is,” he slyly tilted his head, “should you ever decide to leave.”

His four tentacles raised high in the air as the shadows continued their loop. Dream tried to ignore them but there was something about the way they spun...

“We’ll just have to see how you are after I’m through with you,” a teal eyelight flared menacingly. Dream backed away, glad to have his weapon summoned and ready.

As the tentacles attacked, Dream plunged arrow after arrow into the semifluid substance that was his brother. More black fluid splashed onto Dream, coating his clothes--staining his fingerless gloves. In all this, besides wincing from the pain, Nightmare didn’t seem bothered by the assault.

Suspicion now evident, Dream leaped away to reassess the situation.

Did...Nightmare _want_ him to attack?

Why was he allowing himself to get hurt like this?

Dream’s brow ridges furrowed with worry.

This wasn’t like Nightmare at all.

This wasn’t like that time with that monochromatic child in Underswap, when Dream managed to gain the upper hand.

Dream halted his advances, watching and waiting.

Then again, that time he wasn’t close enough to get doused by the tar-like substance Nightmare was made of.

The dark fluid that had landed and stuck to Dream was...oddly warm, and somewhat soothing? Despite the odor that followed Nightmare’s tentacled visage, it didn’t give off anything but a growing heat from where they latched onto Dream. Shaking his clothes didn’t do much to get the excess off, and with no other way to be rid of them, Dream was forced to feel it congeal to his clothes, to him.

This was all becoming too much like an opportunistic trap, a well-thought out one, but an opportunistic one still.

Their ever-swirling environment, the weird warmth encompassing Dream--

If Nightmare was just using all those as a means to distract him, Dream refused to let them gain the upper hand.

Whatever game Nightmare was playing, Dream was _not_ going to play along.

If he just shot at Nightmare’s tentacles again, he’d just coat himself in another layer of black fluid. But what other way did Dream have to protect himself from Nightmare’s attacks?

Gritting his teeth, Dream rethought his strategy, despite how unbearable the _tingling_\--the _warmth_ building into a _heat_ over his bones--was starting to become.

In a desperate attempt to cleanse himself of the substance, Dream threw off his tunic, leaving his bodysuit and scarf-like cape to protect what little decency he had left. With renewed vigor, Dream threw himself backward, away from the assailing tentacles and shot them down, pinning them to the darkness that made up a floor.

“Tsk,” Nightmare scoffed. “When will you learn Dream? That’ll just makes things w o r s e.”

The darkness seemed to close in around them, and Dream ran along the solidifying surfaces that came into being. Was this a new tactic to keep him from running away? But where would he run to? What was Nightmare planning?

Two tentacles flanked him from behind and Dream barely managed to dodge them. But not without getting a splattering of fluid all up his arm.

Startled by the warm goop congealing up his arm like slime, Dream almost cried out.

Shivering, Dream untwisted the arch of his bow to reveal his hidden daggers, and stabbed at the tentacles reflexively before they reared back to restrain him.

“This is getting _tiresome,_” Nightmare hissed impatiently, secondary tentacles catching Dream by the wrists. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” Jerking Dream back, Nightmare managed to fling his weapon into the darkness below. Dream swallowed dryly as he caught Nightmare’s eyelight.

“Nightmare--” he attempted to negotiate, “just let me go. If it’s a fight you want, we can do that somewhere else--We can talk through this--”

_“You think you’re here to **talk?**”_ Nightmare exploded, a third tentacle slapped Dream across the face, hurtling him downward, only to be stopped by the tendrils gripping his wrists. Groaning, Dream hung limply, as Nightmare dragged him forward to close their distance.

Dream raised his head in time to catch Nightmare’s scowl.

“You’ve been a proverbial thorn in my side since the very beginning,” he spat. “It’s time you learned the true meaning of my power. And what you’re _truly_ good for.”

A hand on his cheek tilted Dream’s face upward. Now that Nightmare himself was touching him, wherever the viscid black had settled, Dream felt more than a tingling he could easily ignore.

The semifluid that surrounding Dream vibrated incessantly now, and despite himself, despite how wrong it felt, Dream unconsciously leaned into the tentacles holding him up.

It felt...strangely good--

Realizing his actions halfway through it, Dream snapped his head up and faced forward, defiantly.

“What will you do?” he gritted through set teeth. Nightmare giggled at his insolence. At the quiver in his clenched jaw.

“Me?” he laughed, “_I_ won’t do _anything_. Nothing at least, you wouldn’t _want_,” Nightmare smirked. “You may find it _uncharacteristic_ of me,” he grinned mischievously, “but I’m _all about consent._”

The darkness around Dream swirled again. The sharp teeth that shone from beneath that warm, black goo of Nightmare glistened almost invitingly. Almost...enticingly.

Dream’s brow ridge furrowed first with confusion. Then with an unadulterated desire.

What the-- Dream swallowed dryly. Something about being this near to Nightmare awoke a rapidly uncoiling tension within him.

“And you want to _relax_,” Nightmare suggested, “don’t you?”

Wh--was this a new trick? Part of this weird game Nightmare wanted to play?

“I...can’t,” Dream responded slowly in an attempt to regain control. Over himself, over what little influence over his body he had left. “It’s not…” he shook his head, “this isn’t right.”

It was becoming more difficult to ignore the feel of Nightmare’s writhing tentacles against his skull. Intertwining with his arms, tugging at his wrists to remind Dream how helpless he was--

“But you need it, don’t you?” Nightmare reasoned, as his other two tentacles brushed against Dream’s limp legs. “You’ve been fighting so hard, and all this time. Look at you--” they climbed slowly up his stiffening femurs, languorously wrapping them with more heat than Dream could bear-- “You’re practically _begging_ for it.”

His brother’s face was inches away now, Dream could _feel_ the heat radiating from him despite the chill of their surroundings.

Was...was Nightmare _always_ this warm? When was the last time they were this close...?

“Heroes like you deserve _rest,_” Nightmare continued. “How else will you fight the villain?” Leaning so his teeth brushed Dream’s temple, Nightmare hissed. “How else will you fight _me_?”

The goop that dripped from the blackened skeleton’s face smeared onto Dream’s zygomatic process, and Dream shuddered. It was everywhere now, soaked into the thin fabric of his bodysuit. Practically glued to his bones. And he couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore.

The heat was the most insufferable between his legs. The tentacles around them weren’t helping it one bit.

“Mmn--N-nightm-mare...” Dream shivered.

“Close your sockets, Brother,” Nightmare uttered consolingly. “It’ll feel _so_ much better.”

What with the intolerable vibrations and enduring heat spattering his bones, Dream thought the suggestion irrefutable. He could concentrate better if he focused, right? It’s what he’d been trying to do this whole time, to escape. To find his way out.

Allowing himself a bit of shut-eye just sounded...so reasonable.

He didn’t realize how tired he was until he let his sockets steadily lower.

As his sockets slowly closed, Nightmare grinned sharply.

“Good,” he praised. “Now doesn’t that feel better?” Sleepily, Dream managed a short nod. “You need all your strength,” Nightmare continued, “so why don’t I watch over you?” he proposed, “like a good brother should.” Brow ridges furrowed slightly at this.

“nn--Nightmare...” Dream protested, “but--” One of the tentacles holding him up gingerly touched his teeth, and involuntarily, Dream welcomed it. The warmth was making him dizzy, unfocused, and wanting--_something._

Nightmare hadn’t offered to do something like this in years.

Nightmare hadn’t _touched_ him like this in centuries.

“Shh shh,” Nightmare hushed, “sleep for me Dream,” he whispered with a coo. “Dream for me.” The tentacle over Dream’s stained teeth moved languidly to coat his sockets black. _“You need it, don’t you?”_

At Dream’s small, affirming nod, Nightmare smirked.

“You’ll love it,” Nightmare assured him, “I’ll make sure of it.”

\---

Inky tendrils swirled in the unlit, but comfortable black. A soothing darkness enveloped the blindfolded skeleton as the tentacles slowly eased his ankle belts off. They removed his shoes as they tickled at his body-stocking. He may have giggled at the sensation, and comically, Nightmare was having troubling releasing Dream from his fabric confines. Frustrated, Nightmare instead, took a more direct approach, and ripped the body-stocking apart. In convenient places of course.

Once exposed to his liking, the tentacles moved to interlace with Dream’s bones. Like a swimmer who nestles into the warmth of water, Dream sank into the inky black substance like it were a friend.

A smirk quirked at Nightmare’s teeth. He was already accepting it. Good.

“Can you see the waves in the darkness?” Nightmare asked, “They’ll reveal themselves if you _concentrate._”

Now, Nightmare didn’t think it too unfair of him to use a bit of magic in his words. In his defense, he was just helping Dream...concentrate better. On defeating him, of course. That’s what most heroes did after all, bide their time until they could find the opportunity to strike. From beneath the black substance covering his sockets, a brow ridge knitted in concentration.

“...they keep moving,” Dream murmured, “makin’ me dizzy...”

“Find their center,” suggested Nightmare. “It’s easier to follow them that way.” Dream grunted in acknowledgement, and Nightmare’s soul fluttered when he soon heard Dream sigh.

A teal eyelight regarded Dream a moment, and Nightmare found himself feeling...nostalgic, of sorts.

The two never truly had time to talk, not since they started that hero/villain charade. He never truly understood why or how Dream happened to show up when he would. Always with his...convenient companions of course. Because heroes stood in numbers against their nemeses, never truly alone.

Nightmare absolutely loathed that.

So why now, of all times?

Why in this sudden turn of Fate did Dream end up in _his domain no less_, and all by himself?

The thought nagged at Nightmare until he heard himself utter,

“Dream.”

“Mm?” There was no way he wouldn’t answer. Nightmare had made sure Dream was deep enough that he would speak truthfully and without restraint. He was in a perfect position to exploit Dream should he wish.

But all Nightmare could truly want right now, was an answer.

“Why are you here?” His brow furrowed, as if confused. Nightmare stared down at him, the beginnings of a seeth igniting. “Are you here because some _sick_ part of you thought it _amusing_ to visit your disgusting older sibling to _ridicule me_ in my own domain?” he spat, a lilt in his voice.

“That’s...not true...” he heard Dream utter.

“Then _tell me what it is!_” Nightmare snarled, anger provoked. “I don’t have an open door to _my fucking **realm, Dream!**_” Nightmare felt Dream tense atop his tentacles. He felt the slightest breaths of _fear_ exude from him.

_Fuck._

This wasn’t how he wanted this to turn out.

Exhaling sharply, Nightmare grumbled his distaste before forcing out the tension from his shaking bones.

His brow ridges smoothing, Nightmare sighed.

“Deep down, you’ve always wanted to do the right thing, haven’t you?” he asked, “Why else would you be so intent on stopping me? You keep showing up, like the hero you are, to prevent me from reaching my goal. And you succeed, because that’s what heroes do, don’t they? You’re not meant to stray into enemy territory like this,” Nightmare shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not meant to _be_ here, tangled like this--like a fly in a spider’s web--”

What was he doing?

He should get straight to the point.

But it wasn’t every day Nightmare got to speak to Dream this way. It wasn’t every day they weren’t fighting against each other, grappling the other into submission--

It wasn’t every day Nightmare got to parse why their dynamic _became_ this way.

It was only natural, wasn’t it?

“So what is a paragon of goodness like you doing here?” he shrewdly questioned. “You had to have come willingly--there’s no other explanation,” Nightmare pieced together the thought aloud. “The only other way into my domain is through me. So the real reason you’re here...is something you yourself haven’t acknowledged.”

Nightmare turned to his <strike>brother</strike> captive, a viscous hand grasped at his unsullied chin.

“You had to _want it_,” he stressed. For anyone to have found themselves in Nightmare’s realm, they had to either slip completely into the influence of him, or allow Nightmare a means into their Soul.

But Dream didn’t have a _shred_ of negativity in that golden soul of his.

Even as Nightmare uttered the words himself, he still couldn’t believe the implication.

“You still care about a sick fuck like me,” Nightmare asked slowly, “don’t you?”

Hearing Dream’s voice through the silence and his chattering teeth only impacted Nightmare more.

“W-we’re family,” he answered drowsily. “‘Course I do.”

Despite how startling this reveal was, this was not the answer Nightmare wanted to hear.

How long had they been fighting each other?

How long has it been since Nightmare could freely call Dream his brother, despite not being the same person?

“But we can be more than that,” Nightmare seethed, releasing Dream’s mandible with an angered jerk. “In fact, we will,” he decided. “The only reason you could possibly have been brought here is because inwardly, _you want this._”

He could see Dream twitching under the involuntary ministrations of his tentacles. He could feel the growing heat between his legs, and the small coalescence of magic attempting to create something substantial. But Dream didn’t seem to understand what was happening, no matter how deep Nightmare brought him. A frustrated growl escaped from his teeth.

“But you don’t see it--_why_ can’t you see it like me?” Clutching at the substance around his chest, Nightmare swallowed, and allowed himself a moment of weakness.

“Us being the way we are...we can’t help but _want_ it. I can’t help but want _you._ Even though I hate the _fuck out of you._” Chuckling despondently, Nightmare shrugged. “Do you have any idea how _difficult_ it is to ignore your fucking presence when I can _feel_ it whever you go? I hate how _aware_ I am of you, how _nauseous_ I get when _I. **can’t. find. you.**_” He allowed a frustrated snarl to hiss through his teeth. “Opposites attract whether they want it or not. Whether you choose to see it or not, dreams will harbor nightmares.” Teeth gritting, Nightmare frowned. “Now that I have you, you’ll understand.”

Wrapping more tentacles around his bare brother, Nightmare brought their faces closer.

“Watching you,” he scoffed, “the way you are, how you live--by the Stars do I feed on it--the empty spaces where you’re not present, the absence of you--but those are _nothing_ compared to the spaces _you_ inhabit. _They are nothing compared to you._” Nightmare allowed himself a careful exhale, a hiss to expel the smallest compulsive urge of his own selfishness, of repressed longing.

He could see the twitch of Dream’s hazy eyelights from behind the mask of his fluids. How was Dream so beautiful when he was so powerless?

“You can’t have darkness without the light,” Nightmare continued, allowing himself to lean in so he could put a dripping hand to Dream’s face. “You can’t have Dream without too experiencing Nightmare.” A teal eyelight gazed intensely at the shivering skeleton before him. Closer he drew, until his hot breath was mere inches from Dream’s face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to have you all to myself.” The heat that expelled from his venomous snarl only made Dream’s position more susceptible, more...exploitable.

_“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to corrupt you.”_

Black teeth passionately clanking against his brother’s, Nightmare expelled a long breath. He could feel Dream stiffen beneath his tentacles. He could feel the tiniest of heats arise from Dream, along with the smallest gasp.

“Your brotherly love for me,” he murmured, almost disappointed at Dream’s restraint, “if it’s still there, show me.”

Nightmare gripped at Dream, claws in danger of bursting from his phalanges.

“Let it flow unrestrained,” he continued, a guarded passion hissing through his teeth, “Prove to me that we can be together. Prove your _love_ for me, Dream.”

Something inside Dream was fighting this suggestion. Nightmare could see it. Touching their foreheads together, he allowed a silent plea, no--a command.

“You _will_ be with me,” Nightmare ordered, his magic smouldering in his exposed socket. “My will is your will. And you _are mine._” Stepping away, Nightmare’s socket narrowed, a plan already formulating in his skull.

“I will make it so.”

\---

As Dream was already effectively covered in Nightmare’s fluids, he saw no reason to _not_ add more. After all, with how comfortable Dream looked, Nightmare devised that he would be more than happy in his current state to receive them. Tentacles gripping Dream firmly in place, Nightmare licked at his cervical vertebrae with a languidly dripping tongue.

“It’s time to wake up Dream,” he urged, sharp phalanges hooking into Dream’s mandible. “It’s time to _give_ yourself to me.” Slightly roused from his induced trance, Dream blearily blinked, eyelights dim, but translucently visible from the dark that coated his sockets.

“Nn...Nightmare?”

“Have a nice _dream?_” Nightmare tauntingly remarked. Dream didn’t even have the energy to frown at the joke. “You’re supposed to laugh,” Nightmare squeezed at Dream’s jaw, oddly disappointed. Dream frowned, and his brow ridges knitted.

“What did you--” he weakly coughed, reaching for the gunk covering his sockets.

_“Nothing you wouldn’t want,”_ Nightmare fiendishly grinned, gently lowering Dream’s hand.

Dream eyed him suspiciously through the black.

“I...I’m not sure what you’re doing,” Dream rasped, “But...if I think I understand what is it you want, if...if I do it…” Dream paused, the gold tingeing his zygomatics engulfing his maxilla now, “if I let you take me...” A gulp. “Will you leave my soul untouched?”

_What in the hell kind of response was that?_

_ **Was Dream a virgin?** _

Nightmare took note to make it a requirement to remedy that suspicion.

But, the thought that _innocent_ Dream hadn’t even _considered_ such an act incited a flutter in Nightmare.

Would he get his wish after all?

_Would Nightmare be able to corrupt Dream himself?_

“When you love someone, you _give_ them your heart and soul, right?” Nightmare hissed delightedly at the prospect, a toothy smile slowly showing from under the black goop dripping down his face.

“But--”

“Do you love me, Dream?” The barest hint of hesitation flashed through Dream’s furrowed brow before he responded.

“I do--but I _won’t._ Let you--”

“I find that now is much too late for you to make that sort of decision,” Nightmare cut in, “wouldn’t you agree?”

“N-nightmare--” Dream exhaled, “I’m not _stupid._ You’re not getting my soul.”

“Then tell me _Brother,_” Nightmare said mockingly, “if you being here had _anything_ to do with me wanting your soul, then why didn’t I take it from you the moment I _caught_ you?”

Dream’s brow furrowed again.

“I--it doesn’t make any sense but--” he sucked in a breath. “I wouldn’t put it past you to get it by whatever means necessary.”

A slow grin grew into Nightmare’s inquisitive expression.

“You think you know me so well,” he chuckled. “And here I thought you wouldn’t let me touch you the way I am now--” a tentacle slithered to stroke at Dream’s cheek. “_\--without some encouragement._” Flummoxed, Dream stared at him.

“You _can’t--_” he protested, as the tentacles around him writhed a moment and interrupted his train of thought. And to Nightmare’s glee, they managed to get a whine out of him.

“It _must_ be,” Nightmare cocked his head and purred, “why, you must also have realized it by now, haven’t you?” Watching the gold of his eyelights shrink from beneath the black covering his sockets was _delicious._ Nightmare could practically _feel_ the heat of Dream’s confused arousal.

“N-no,” Dream shook his head in bewilderment, “It’s not--!”

“I’m sure a little more _encouragement_ will change your mind?” Nightmare sneered.

“Wh--” Before he could speak, Nightmare shoved a tentacle into Dream’s parted mouth.

“Don’t worry Dream,” Nightmare grinned smugly, “It won’t hurt. _Unless you want it to._” Dream’s muffled cries and weak writhes did little to distract Nightmare from the deepening gold blush all over his face. By now, Dream ought to be piecing together the suggestions Nightmare left for him to find. By now, they ought to be the only thoughts Dream was latching onto.

He _had_ to be, why else would he be so embarrassed?

Deliberately stroking down Dream’s exposed sternum, Nightmare’s free tentacles danced around those thrice-coated bones until they slipped into his pelvis. Obturator foramina are just the right size to allow a malleable substance to stream out, much like one would squeeze paste from a tube. So to watch at least two tentacles shove themselves down Dream was absolutely mesmerizing, and Nightmare made sure to wiggle them around for good measure.

The resulting moans from Dream made it so worth it, and inwardly Nightmare demanded more.

Hooking the tentacles around and through the foramina, Nightmare felt a compulsion to just...bend them a little outward. He heard a terrified huff from Dream as his breathing changed. Alongside it, Nightmare felt him stiffen as his legs fought to kick the invading tentacles away. He heard a hiss, and the grit of teeth against the tentacle in Dream’s mouth.

This was not the body language of someone who enjoyed it.

It was of someone in pain.

Nightmare felt an exhilarating thrill at the idea. To break Dream now would be a delight, but oh he wasn’t ready for it yet, no. No, Nightmare was all about consent, and unless Dream was begging for Nightmare to punish him himself, he would not hurt Dream otherwise.

Besides, why would he stop his fun now by breaking his toy so soon? Nightmare called away his tentacles and almost instantly Dream returned to a more relaxed state. Well, as relaxed as he could be given his current circumstance. He pleaded with his covered eyelights forward, in Nightmare’s direction.

Dream was adorable when he was trying to get others to pity him.

The deep gold of his blush absolutely encompassed the entirety of his face, and Nightmare knew Dream wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. Not if that uncontrollable shivering meant anything.

Chuckling to himself, Nightmare instead let a tentacle stroke at Dream’s pubic symphysis, while the rest wriggled in the open spaces of Dream’s pelvis, climbed up his spine, embraced his ribs.

They were just short of reaching into his ribcage to flick at the golden soul underneath.

Nightmare witnessed the fear in his brother’s eyelights when the tentacles closest to his ribcage climbed upward like vines. But when they missed their supposed target, he felt Dream lean back in relief.

Confident of his control over the situation, Nightmare smirked.

To consume that beautiful gold soul was another matter that would result in lasting consequences.

To steal it now would hinder any sort of ‘brotherly bonding’ Nightmare planned. The whole point of this was to enjoy himself.

After all, killing Dream when he was just so delectably at his mercy wouldn’t be much fun now, would it?

He had all the time in his realm to play with Dream, and Nightmare vowed to make the most of it.

Nightmare pressed himself so he could feel the rise and fall of Dream’s ribcage as his tentacles had their way with him, so Nightmare’s chin barely touched Dream’s shoulder.

“You love it,” he whispered heatedly in Dream’s acoustic meatus, “_don’t you?_” The look of him, practically doused in Nightmare’s being _and so docile_, with the slightest furrow on his exposed brow ridges, was enough for Nightmare to get more than excited.

“The feel of my tentacles on your bones, the feel of me all around you, _you love it, don’t you?_” He punctuated his words with an intentional thrust inward, making the gold of Dream’s eyelights roll back. _”You need it. You crave it,_” Nightmare emphasized, “I am everywhere you are not. I am everywhere you wish me to be. You just need to call for me.” His tentacles stroked Dream lovingly, with precise strokes and smooth ministrations that emphasized his command.

“_Call for me, Dream,_” Nightmare encouraged. “_Seek me. Find me. I will come when you beckon. And when you have become desperate for my touch, for my will, I will bring you back to me. We will be together. Just as **you’ve** wanted. Just like **we** wanted._”

Dream whimpered, as if in agreement.

Who was he to question what was true, after all?

_“You are **mine**, Dream,”_ Nightmare proclaimed, releasing the tentacle between his teeth. Dream clenched his jaw as if to repress his whimpers without it. _“You were **always** mine.”_ Black phalanges replaced the tentacle as Nightmare forced Dream’s teeth open and drove his tongue in Dream’s to prove his point. “Say it, Dream,” Nightmare asked of him, substance nearly vibrating with anticipation as he pulled away. _**“You are mine.”**_

He needed to hear him say it.

Nightmare _needed_ Dream to admit it aloud. To himself. To Nightmare.

Nightmare was all about consent.

He couldn’t break Dream like he wanted without _permission._

_He needed Dream to accept his fate._

_Say you are mine,_ he pleaded inwardly, _I need to hear you reveal your own truth to me._ Touching his brother wherever Nightmare hadn’t already only encouraged his longing. Ignited his _desire._

Hungrily, Nightmare kissed him again, teeth clanking in a frenzied attempt to get him to understand how _urgent_ this was, how much Nightmare _wanted_ this.

It felt like the moments stretched to hours when Nightmare felt a tongue beginning to urgently fight his. Nightmare relented, and was finally rewarded with a response that wasn’t another adorable whine or muffled cry.

“I--I’m--” Nightmare slowed the ministrations down noticeably enough to hear a frustrated moan. Just a little more--

_Say it…**Say it!**_

Nightmare felt the inevitable clench of magic around his tentacles, and smiled wickedly to himself.

“Yours!” Dream finally cried out, “I’m yours!”

Teeth in a triumphant grin, Nightmare renewed the speed of the tentacles, and was pleased to hear a cry of helpless pleasure.

_Finally…**Finally!**_

“_**Mine,**_” Nightmare declared haggardly, victoriously. “_**Mine, mine, mine.**_” His tentacles further emphasized the fact as they rutted feverishly into Dream.

In a haze, Nightmare drew his teeth to Dream’s clavicle and _bit down._

Oh the _wail_ that came from him! Dream had such adorably loud cries when he was unhindered like this, when he allowed himself to _let go--_

With nothing in between his teeth, a series of nonsense and incoherent noise began babbling from his mouth.

Stars. Dream just fell apart. _Like a light,_ Nightmare would giggle, if he wasn’t so engrossed in getting Dream to scream for him.

He’d be marvelling at this display, completely awed at how _unlike_ Dream this was.

How…_demeaning_ and enticing Nightmare made him.

Everything was falling into place so perfectly, Nightmare couldn’t have devised anything better.

Dream was accepting it now so fully he practically _reveled_ in it.

In what Nightmare was doing to him.

In what he knew they both wanted in the end.

If only Nightmare could say the same for his own poor, weeping cock.

But if the sweat beading atop Dream’s skull, and the rising pitch of his haggard cries meant anything, Dream really was as close as Nightmare was. It was only a matter of time.

The tentacles holding Dream up lowered him and unceremoniously threw him to the ground. Dream squealed in surprise as the tentacles holding him up soon shifted to holding his wrists back, and ankles apart. The other two still moved within him, but at a slower speed, just enough to quell Dream’s cries as he attempted to turn his head.

“N-nightm--”

_**“SHUT UP,”**_ he commanded.

Nightmare couldn’t hold back any longer.

Not with his pelvis up in the air like that, not with Dream so deliciously struggling, just _begging_ for him--

For his cock.

_“You wanted this, right?”_ Nightmare ground his teeth testily as he released his glowing teal cock from the confines of his shorts. “**Beg for it,**” he ordered. “**Beg for _me._**”

Dream struggled to turn, to look at him. But Nightmare forced his face into the ground.

“Brother--” Nightmare slapped a hand over his teeth to silence him. Whether by accident or not, Dream’s gold tongue snaked out to unconsciously lick at the dripping phalanges closest to his teeth.

_Fuck--_ Nightmare needed to regain control--

“_**Beg.**_” Oh, he felt a clench at the tentacles inside Dream with that command.

Nightmare’s hand retreated enough for Dream to speak.

“_Please,_” he whined, desperately pleading, “_please_\--make me yours--” Oh that _voice._ That _quiver_ in his plea-- “I need you--I _need--_”

Nightmare had heard enough. A teal eyelight stared hungrily at the squirming skeleton before him.

“Such a greedy boy,” Nightmare teased. “But also a very obedient one.”

“Yes,” Dream hissed distraitly. “I need you Nightmare--” he beseeched, “I’ve always--”

“Have you?” Nightmare humored him, as he rubbed the head of his cock on Dream’s dripping entrance just between the two tentacles wrapped around his obturator foramina.

“_Always,_” Dream affirmed. “I just--” he sighed contentedly as the tentacles lifted his hips at a higher angle and Nightmare slowly entered him. “We can’t, we’re--” A hiss as Nightmare experimentally thrusted. “--s’pposed to be...e-enemies--” He whined breathlessly, and so wholly did Dream break for him that Nightmare wondered if this was what it was like to see stars for the first time.

“We never were Dream,” Nightmare assured him with a chaste kiss to his scapula. “You just lost your way.”

Dream repeated the thought to himself with a confused mutter.

“But--” he asked with a gasp, as Nightmare’s hips gyrated to push his cock in further. “Ink--”

“Shh,” Nightmare hushed him. “Enjoy me while you have me, Dream.” Craning his neck so his teeth heatedly brushed against the crook of Dream’s neck, Nightmare’s voice deepened.

“_**I need you to become all with me.**_”

Dream moaned at his request, and Nightmare felt his pelvis trying to meet him, trying to connect them further. Physically and emotionally wanting him with rapturous devotion.

It was almost sweet, if Nightmare appreciated adorable attempts. But Nightmare was more about power. And consent. Yes, that too.

But if Dream wished to be here, by the Stars nothing was going to stop him, not even Nightmare.

Even if he eventually found his way back to whatever hovel he was living in before this.

Even if he was taken up by that fucker Ink again.

Nightmare would come for him.

Nightmare would claim what was rightfully his.

As Nightmare grunted, and Dream screamed his release, Nightmare knew for certain.

Dream would return to him.

Willingly, not by chance.

And Nightmare would welcome him.

It wasn’t worth consuming his soul if it meant Nightmare wouldn’t be able to touch him like this, to _feel_ Dream curl into him as Nightmare lowered himself to meet the floor.

It wouldn’t be if devouring Dream’s soul meant living eternally alone in a world brimming with nothing but chaos and negativity.

Though, the whole point of getting Dream this vulnerable was to get to his soul, Nightmare found he couldn’t bear to do such an unsporting, underhanded tactic. Not when Dream was in such a compromised, post-coital position.

He would get to it eventually, he was sure.

But for now, he had Dream nuzzling close to his chest, and he could feel the beat of his golden soul through the dark substance that Nightmare was made of. His soul was so close--it almost pained Nightmare to be at such a proximity.

How could something so beautiful be allowed to be near such a disgusting being as he?

How could something so pure stand to be near a creature like him?

Only Dream, the Champion of Light and Goodness would even dare think of how Nightmare would feel.

Only Dream would willingly come here to see him--

Only…

Stars, Nightmare longed to claim him again. Longed to feel his dripping substance congeal over those delicate bones-- Longed to _taste him--_

Nightmare glanced at the glowing gold sparkling from beneath Dream’s ribcage. Barely veiled by that sorry excuse of nylon fabric.

In a way, Dream’s soul _was_ his now. Nightmare could take him as he wished. He could profess dominion over Dream in the name of the tree that bore them those centuries ago.

There was nothing in the multiverse that would keep them apart any longer.


End file.
